arrival
by winterpolis
Summary: Arrival: to reach a point; to return; to be, in one's entirety, in a place of destination. The hardest part about living his dream is the days he spends away from home.


The hardest part about living his dream is the days he spends away from home.

Too often during his on-seasons, he'd be home for a couple of days to a week at most before having to pack up and go on the road again. His wife jokingly chides him for loving the game more than he does her or their son, but he knows she doesn't really mean anything by it. She knows, just as well as anyone who's known Nathan long enough, how much it means to him to be able to fulfill a childhood dream and to build a career out of one of his greatest passions in life. It doesn't stop her, though, from wishing that his doing so wouldn't come at the expense of seeing and having him around less. She hated having to miss him. He hated having to have her miss him, almost as much as he hated not being able to watch their son grow up every single day.

Seated comfortably in the business class seat the team manager had booked the Bobcats for their flight back home, Nathan pulls out three photographs from his wallet. It was a ritual of his that gave him some semblance of comfort while he was away, one he never failed to uphold irregardless of where he was. Whenever he found himself missing his family or needing to draw courage or strength before or after a game, he'd take out the three photographs and he'd feel, for the briefest of moments, that he was with them and not away. It never failed to comfort him and to remind him just how lucky he was that he had a supportive wife and an adoring son waiting for him back home, that despite all the time he's away, he has them to come home to. They are what drive him to play his best, to train harder, and to be better. If he was going to give up some of his precious time with the most precious people in his life, he might as well make it worth it, living the dream or not.

This is one of the longest times he's been away from home—three weeks, in fact. The team had back-to-back games that left no time for return trips home; and though he had called Peyton every day and got to video call Theo every night before he went to sleep, he couldn't deny the separation anxiety that he had been feeling since he got on the plane all those weeks ago. Diverting his attention to the photographs in his hands, he takes a deep breath and allows himself to take a walk down memory lane.

The first photograph is always the candid one of the three of them laughing and sitting by the steps of their beach house, the last rays of the sun painting them in warm hues of gold. Theodore had been three at that time, and his missing front teeth were evident as he threw his head back in laughter, his mom and dad's arms wrapped tightly around him. His little boy looked so happy and carefree, as he always was, and Nathan can't stop himself from affectionately brushing his thumb over Theo's chubby cheeks. Peyton and he look just as happy as their son, and though he honestly can't remember what Skills, who had been the one to take the photo, had even said to make them laugh just seconds before the shutter had closed and captured that small sliver of forever into film, he found it didn't matter. It was his favorite photo of his family despite the many others they'd taken since, and he was just glad that he got to carry such a cherished memory with him at all times.

The second photograph is a shot of the three of them, again, on the day Theo had been born. Peyton was cradling a peacefully sleeping Theo in her arms, and despite the haggardness evident in the dark circles under her eyes—she had been in labor for all of eighteen grueling hours, after all—her eyes were shining with pure joy and her smile couldn't have been any wider. Nathan thought she'd never looked more beautiful. His eyes land on himself, and a small smile makes its way to his lips. He hadn't been looking at the camera like Peyton had been; instead, he'd had his eyes closed in relief and unadulterated pride, his lips pressed against her temple. He feels what he'd felt then crash over him, that feeling of love so full, he couldn't even put it into words. He never wanted to _not_ feel that.

Pulling the last photograph out of the pile, Nathan's smile grows just a bit wider. It was a candid shot of his wife that he'd taken shortly before he'd proposed. They had been taking a walk down a forest trail and she'd walked ahead of him to pick a flower that had caught her eye. A ray of sunlight had streamed through the canopy of tree leaves the moment she'd stood up from where she'd plucked the flower, and it hit her at just the right angle, making her glow. Her eyes were sparkling and there was a content smile on her lips when she'd turned around to show him her flower, and he was hit by the realization of just how much he'd loved her then. Before he even knew what he was doing, he'd taken the shot of her. She'd been as surprised as he was at his sudden move, her green eyes widening before she burst into a fit of giggles. In the midst of her telling him how his sudden bursts of spontaneity never ceased to surprise her, Nathan had swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat, urging the sudden tears he felt brimming in his eyes not to fall. He'd been so overcome with love for her, he couldn't even deny that he'd teared up even if he tried. All he knew was that in that moment, he'd known that she was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

The smile still on his lips, Nathan traces his wife's face in the photograph, the love he had for her warming him inside-out. He'd never understand what she saw in him or why she decided that he was the man she wanted to be tied to forever, but he's just glad that she did. He didn't know life without her—and Theo—anymore, nor did he ever want to have to.

"All passengers please return to your seats. The plane is about to land."

Nathan is pulled out of his reminiscing by the pilot's announcement. Feeling a surge of excitement at the prospect of being reunited with his family again soon, he carefully tucks the photographs back into his wallet and steels himself for the landing.

* * *

The house is still when the cab finally drops him off at the beach house. He isn't sure what to make of it, but considering that he was surprising them with an early arrival home, Nathan shrugs off his worries and lets himself in.

The night lights Peyton had installed in place of candles shortly after Theo was born and the floor lights they'd installed after they'd moved into the home post-honeymoon are on, cloaking the whole house in a warm but dim glow. The glass doors facing the beach front and leading to the porch are open to let the cool breeze in, and Nathan takes a gulp of the familiar and yet cleansing salty air that he'd come to miss in his time away. All is quiet as he drops his bags by the front door, and he's just made his way out of the kitchen after grabbing a glass of water when a childish giggle from the second floor breaks the silence. A huge, affectionate smile immediately spreads across his face. _Theo_.

Taking the steps two at a time, Peyton's voice reaches his ears as he makes his way towards Theo's open bedroom door. "I do not like them anywhere. I do not like green eggs and ham." Theo giggles again as his mother reads to him, the familiar lines of his favorite bedtime story filling the hallway. Nathan knows what's coming next as Peyton and Theo do it every time she reads him this story. Together, they read the last line aloud, just as Nathan reaches the doorway. "I do not like them, Sam-I-am."

His presence still unknown, he leans against the doorframe and watches on as Peyton and Theo carry on with their conversation. _God_ , but he loves coming home to this sight. His wife and son are snuggled together on Theo's bed, the blankets pulled up all the way to the five year old's chin. Peyton is in one of his old college shirts and a pair of her cotton shorts, and he smiles at the familiarity of it all. She'd been sleeping in his clothes since forever.

"Momma, when will Daddy be home?" Theo's voice holds just the slightest hint of sadness, and his heart wrenches at the fact. He hates that his son has to miss him.

"Well, Daddy called this morning right before his press conference with the Bobcats—"

"The one we watched while eating b'fast?"

Peyton and he chuckle. Theo still had a hard time saying the word breakfast sometimes.

"Yes, honey, the one we watched while eating _break_ fast."

"Oh. What did he say? Is he gonna be home yet?" the boy's cobalt eyes—much like his were—shine with excitement.

"He said that he'd be home by tomorrow evening at the latest." Peyton brushes a strand of dirty blond hair that had fallen over Theo's eyes, just as he pouts. "But that's still _so_ far away!"

Peyton sighs. "I know, honey, but you know your Dad can't just up and leave his job. He loves his job."

Theo frowns. "But I miss him, Momma."

"I know you do. I miss him, too."

Nathan watches as his son buries his face in his mother's neck, her hand rubbing soothing circles across his back. Something tugs at his heartstrings and before he can stop to clear the lump in his throat, the words are out of his mouth. "He misses you guys too, you know."

Immediately, two blonde heads turn to face him, and the next thing he knows, a blur of arms and legs tackle him.

"Daddy!"

"Nate!"

Nathan barely manages to wrap his arms securely around the two most important people in his life before the three of them land on the floor with a thud. He's laughing despite the slight pain that blossoms on his shoulder blades, which take the brunt of the fall, but his laughter quiets down as he feels Theo bury his head in his chest and Peyton peppering his face with kisses.

Tightening his hold around the two, he places a kiss on Theo's head. "Hey, buddy, I missed you."

Theo doesn't look up from his place lying atop his father. "I missed you, too, Daddy. I missed you lots."

Sighing, he presses another kiss on the boy's head. "I love you."

This time, Theo lifts his head and scoots higher to press a kiss on his father's cheek, all the while sporting a bright smile. "Me too!"

Chuckling, Nathan turns his eyes towards his wife and frowns when he notices the tears in her eyes. "Hey, hey, what's wrong, Peyt?"

Pulling all three of them into a sitting position, he pulls the blonde closer so she's half straddling him.

Shaking her head, she runs her fingers under her eyes in attempt to keep the tears at bay. "Nothing, nothing. I... I just _really_ missed you this time around."

Pressing a chaste kiss on her lips, Nathan smirks as he pulls away. "When do you _not_ , babe?"

Jaw dropping, Peyton lets out a startled laugh before slapping his chest. "Well aren't you and your ego something else, Nathan Scott?"

Theo giggles from where he's settled between both his parents.

Nathan laughs, glad that she's no longer sad or tearing up. "Don't I know it, _Mrs. Scott_."

At the look of affection that crosses her face, Nathan kisses her again, deeper this time. "God, I love you, Nathan." Her forehead is pressed against his, and he feels an overwhelming sense of love for the two people in his arms.

"I love you, too, Peyt. More than I can ever hope to tell you."

The intimate moment is broken by their son's protest a moment later. "Eww! You're being mushy again!"

Looking down at their five year old, the two adults laugh and Peyton pinches Theo's cheeks. "Well, mister, someday you'll meet a girl who you'll willingly be all mushy for. When that day comes, I'll be the slightly older but still hella sexy momma saying 'I told you so'."

Theo scrunches his nose and scowls. As the two go back and forth with playful barbs, Nathan is content to just watch and hold them in his arms, glad to be home at last.

The hardest part about living his dream is the days he spends away from home. The best part is getting to come home to _this_ —to Peyton, to Theo, to their lives. He wouldn't trade coming home to them for anything in the world.


End file.
